


NLB4: Hapless Vegetable

by NullBubby



Category: LittleBigPlanet
Genre: Loneliness, literal making of a friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:41:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26706175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NullBubby/pseuds/NullBubby
Summary: Friends are always such a nice thing. Spent time together and duality of imagination, the mere concept is always something packing excitement.Except when they're busy. For a long, long time.
Kudos: 3





	NLB4: Hapless Vegetable

Dilly, dally about—that was fun, no doubt. Play and swing, intake of some extraordinary ring, no cares at all, just ignorance. Doing what was best, after all, a sphere of imagination around, a drink of the deepest unexplored depths of one’s inner self, simple observation of the orb of dreamers’ cognition. Collect, dial for some bounce, and let the power of a sticker or two run wild.

Yet some didn’t quite get the unfathomable total of concepts to be constructed and invented right before one’s own, maybe even unique sense of perception. Though the crafts and alliances, all shaped and well-suited, later on, even, some newer ones, no less unforgettable than the prior group, all appreciated each other’s wish no further strayed than equal. All together, even if only to reveal such a situation once in a lifetime, one of the best experiences to be had. But no matter, then, just one was fine enough, and they could share quite some fluff.

Then lay a troublesome predicament... speakable, perceptible, yet gruesome.

There wasn’t  _ always _ someone to stick around with. For given reasons perfectly understood, incomprehensible, some, but no sort of one to ever disregard. Personal lives were certainly prized possessions, as well.

For a while, it could turn to be. A long, long while since then, whatever happened at that point... just empty. A helpless yelp into the void of absence and solitude, and none could notice. Maybe a little quieter, and one could possibly listen through the murkiness of the open air of a personalized satellite, yet no one ever came or so much let a response. It... was understandable, of course, but so draining to one’s fluffy mind.

Let them be, was the only loyal response. To respect their wishes, one could pass the time on their own. Some creation, a fantastic world of entertainment just beyond so many ones tangible, recent, and take some time alone. Alone, yes... that was hard.

An amusement park, quickly scrapped without one other to enjoy it with. Then one more simpler, grass, shrubs, trees, paths, and all else green to fit the breezy setting, yet none to relax alongside. A building and a breakroom, gone without a mere trace of existence to any but subconscious. Trains, escapes, hopeless encounters, emulation of the vital void just off a planet, inner reaches of some others, even, and soon realized... one could only dream so many dreams. Inspiration struck so repeatedly, but even it had limits to load of exhaustion placed before tiring and tuckering back to its own despair, leaving a desolate host in perhaps eternal silence.

And finally, after so long of recreation and rehashing came a plain, momentary life just before a great field of crop and a barn, lifeless of all save a carefully constructed boy among it all. Idle, he’d been, the objects and community visited every so often in the personalized bubble before being utterly dismissed. The longings of them never stopped, and so close, so many times, then once...

It had to come out some time.

The gentle rain from self, but ignore that, just one time. For once, just leave those eternal, dejected thoughts behind, and try something new. One more time, one more attempt of another being, then... whatever it was, a companion to last a short while before scrap. And no more desolate position than the insubstantial road of nigh-withering corn, each pleading themselves a quick return back to lifelessness before the press of a button.

Nothing else it could be, even. No more puppets, despite their usual closeness with any commanded. The case still stood reckless—without wiring, they weren’t any more life than the ground beneath, but with, it was just a plain decoy laid out oneself, no true reason to sit by them any more than the contemplation that they were merely a construct of insentient demand. They didn’t mind, but it was time to craft one who did.

To perfectly set the scene before, the cord weaved and lifted each material into proper position, maybe a little lopsided beneath the destruction over the eyes, but nevermind. Up a pole, out a plant, on a pumpkin, and it neared, every moment signaling a soon demise of health beyond one could ever fathom. Once more, a thrust of wire came, a connection, then spattering of decoration and color, eyes and an inexpressive face to match his own, another lift and disregard to repositioning the misaligned, stiff arms to its sides, and distant hopes pressed on. The faint reminder, as the straw hat set itself down at last, that one that none were ever alone, near impossible to focus over the polar opposer to such a claim.

In the end, it was finally done. The wires were set, the leg was stood, and the look was acquired... then came the final, most difficult step to do. Press on through the pain, and reach toward that closing light, the struggle had almost been accomplished.

A single motion of the cursor... remember the outcome, a single motion and the scarecrow would be set to full life before the so many microchips to wire its own sentience. Given its own realism and maybe even sense of struggle, place the single battery to it, and it’d be done, at last.

Then it spoke.

“Have you heard of the greatness of corn?” it began in a robotic monotone, staring downward at him.

The ominous face, carved into the pumpkin-head of the figure just before, lingered in his gaze, disbelief impossible to denote, so much to feel over the intense shadow looming over him from such a height given to the one before him. Trembling heard never before, and it repeated its line, oblivious to its creator far past any scope of nervousness imaginable. A reach forward, past the still unset power source to its any consciousness, then his entire face nearly sagged.

It was done, at last. The desires were finally fulfilled, the dreaded jealousy of another being present dismissed, disputes settled, and maybe something could be well, after all.

“So! Much! Corn!” its robotized transmitter soon spoke, the tall pole used for its own support tested its effort over an awkward hopping in place above a patch of ears.

It was glitchy, but forget that. No need to fix it—a part of its personality, even. A... friend, finally. Made just minutes ago, but one nonetheless. Together, maybe they truly could have some emotion provided so long ago by the others, given proper introduction and presentation of unnoticed ability, and an alliance would be forged upon all.

A tremble, a circling and clumsy voice processing from ahead, and it wasn’t something to ever surface as a fathom. The mere sight to behold, so uncanny to any but the sole one to view it... a celebration indeed.

Almost, the formation of his mouth came, then the metallic clanking and motors bustling, an unfamiliar alarm signaling the new party’s arbitrary arrival. A step, a spin, and a sputter, the pattern repeated time and time again, yet one didn’t seem to pay any mind in the slightest for any but the wilted and depressed prior life signaled so long ago upon the farmland’s initial construction. But soon to change, all that, not the setting, but something new. Not something be ever be deconstructed to any capacity—a memory, it was. For him, for the lively scarecrow, and the robots somewhere so far off.

A smile.

**Author's Note:**

> obligatory quote of rob saying "corn"


End file.
